


Sthenolagnia

by nerdqueenenterprise



Series: Kinktober 2017 [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Muscle Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: Kinktober Day Three - SthenolagniaPhil is absolutely besides himself whenever he watches Chris working out, muscles bunching up, sweaty and smelly. Luckily his partner allows him to indulge in that kink.





	Sthenolagnia

It’s a Tuesday, it’s five thirty pm, and even though that means Phil was in the hospital until five instead of four (and today he got held up for almost twenty minutes more), it also means that it’s the best day of the week. One of them at least. Tuesdays and Thursdays are Phil’s absolute  _ favorite  _ for no other reason than that those are Chris’ arm days at the gym. Monday and Wednesday are legs, Friday is a little bit of everything, Saturday is swimming, Sunday is yoga with Phil. All of those are fine, and great - soaking wet Chris? Bendy Chris? Absolutely marvelous and perfect. Phil loves every micrometer of Chris’ body - his back, his neck, his fantastic ass, his long, strong legs, abs, chest - but his arms are Phil’s absolute favorite. There’s just something about how strong they are, how many happy moments Phil associates with being wrapped up in them that even just seeing the outline of a biceps through a tight shirt makes him really, really happy. 

In the sexual way. Totally in the sexual way. He never thought he’d appreciate a partner who’s that much stronger than him that much, and of course Chris also has a bunch of other favourable traits, but Phil absolutely gets off on how buff he is. The sheer power of holding this man down, feeling him submit, have him use that strength to fuck Phil against a wall, have him hold him and protect him - man, it does do things to Phil.

And it’s the same with watching Chris work out. Of course there’s the added bonus of associating the smell of sweaty Chris with sex  _ and  _ with watching him work out, there’s seeing his muscles bulge, that vein in his upper arm pumping, there’s him shining with sweat, the little grunts he makes -

Phil swears softly and tries to focus back on traffic. Of course, traffic has to be bad today. The later he arrives at the gym, the less he’s going to see Chris working out.

He’s already aroused, because he’s hardly been able to think about much else ever since he was officially off, and he absolutely can’t wait to watch Chris.

 

    “You’re late,” Chris pants, grinning. 

Phil casually leans against the machine next to Chris’. He barely ever does machines at the gym - in winter, it’s where he goes running (and admittedly it’s also where he goes running when he goes to pick Chris up from the gym, but their schedules only rarely allow for that), but he likes yoga far, far more than machines. It’s a lot better for him mentally, too. So generally, he has no clue what the different machines do. He’s got some ideas, sure - the one Chris is doing right now is probably doing fantastic things for his pecs, and … yeah. Yeah, it is, fuck, and Chris is wearing one of the short-sleeved shirts, that show off … a ton of arm.

Phil can feel himself twitch. He probably should rearrange things downstairs, but apart from how they’re in public, Chris would also laugh his ass off. There’s a certain amount of teasing Phil is willing to take for his … muscle-kink or whatever, but this would be too much.

    “Good workout?” he asks instead, stupidly.

Chris laughs breathily and winks. “Upstairs brain not operating?”

    “Shut up.”

    “Hey, if you ask nicely, I could be persuaded to shower at home.”

Phil’s dick seems to grow three sizes at that. “Please?” It comes out as more of a squawk.

Chris’ eyes light up with mirth and mischief. He does his last rep and gets up, stepping a lot closer to Phil than he really needs to. He smells so fucking good, male and fantastic and sweaty, and Phil really, really wants to pound him into the mattress. Or be pounded. Whatever. As long as it involves Chris and his muscles, he’s down.

    “Come on, Phil, let’s go for a run.”

Yeah. Run. Probably a good idea, so he can get his mind elsewhere. It shouldn’t be so hard (pun totally intended) because he’s known Chris for such a long time now, and he should get a lot less excited about him working out and generally he should start being a lot less crazily in love with him, but that doesn’t seem to be happening.

 

Chris heads over to the changing room only moments before Phil does, shooting him a hidden wink, and Phil immediately stops his machine and follows Chris. The run was not particularly helpful in calming him, nor could it be classified as a workout of any kind, but he’ll work out plenty at home. 

The changing room is empty except for Chris, who already got their bags. He’s still huffing a little bit, and he should probably get his heartrate down properly, et cetera et cetera, but Phil’s upstairs brain is really not cooperating at the moment. Instead, he crosses right over and presses his face against Chris’ clavicle, breathing in his scent.

    “Is that a gun in your pocket, or …?”

    “Fuck, Chris, come on, you  _ know _ what this does to me.”

Chris runs a hand up Phil’s back affectionately. “Oh, I do, pretty boy, I do. What do you want me to do when we’re home, hm? Fuck you against a wall? Let yourself rub off against me? Let you hold me down?”

    “Please, let’s just get home.”

 

They get home, they take the lift up to their apartment, Chris chatting happily about his day while Phil is somewhere else completely. By the time they stumble through the door, Phil’s last bits of self-restraint are rapidly failing, and then the door closes behind them

He presses Chris up against the wall and kisses him like there’s no tomorrow. Chris moans a little, widening his stance, and kisses back, enveloping Phil in his arms and his smell and his presence.

They break apart, panting a little, and Phil tugs at the hem of Chris’ shirt.

    “Off,” he demands.

Chris laughs and complies, muscles moving fluidly under his skin, revealing his chest with the lovely mat of fur Phil loves so much. And those abs. God, those abs.

Phil groans and drops to his knees, pressing his face into Chris’ stomach. The smell is less intense here, and there isn’t quite as much hair, but the strands of muscle are hard under his skin.

    “Fuck,” he whispers, rubbing his cheek against Chris a little. Chris laughs again and Phil responds with a bite to his stomach, making him bend forward a little reflexively, which hardens the muscles some more. It also hardens Phil’s dick some more.

    “What do you want, hm, baby boy?”

    “You.”

    “Well, you got me. What do you want to do with me?”

Phil angles his head to watch Chris, who readily poses a little, stretching his arms over his head, which does great things to his biceps. He stands up abruptly and holds Chris’ elbows to the wall, kissing the soft skin on the underside of his arm, nipping into the muscle. Chris’ smell is more present here, his skin still a bit damp with sweat, salty and perfect.

    “I want to see you masturbate,” he breathes into the hollow between Chris’ neck and arm, licking at the sweat there. “Slow and careful, taking your time.”

Chris is grinning when he pulls away. “And what are you gonna do?  _ Watch  _ me?”

    “Yeah.” Phil can’t help but moan when he grins his erection into Chris’ hip. “I’m going to watch you, and just before you’re about to orgasm, I’ll tell you to stop. I’ll finger you open slowly, and then I’m going to fuck you, Christopher, so slowly, until you’re begging me.”

Chris is staring at him, panting open mouthed. “Well, hell, what’s gotten into you? That sounds fantastic.”

Phil moves in to kiss him, running his hands over his lover’s body, gripping his ass. He knows he’s not strong enough to lift Chris, but his ass feels fantastic, tight and hot, and it makes Chris sling a leg around him, rolling his hips into him, making Phil moan into his mouth.

    “Get on that couch,” he gasps into Chris’ mouth before diving back in for another kiss, tongue slipping inside to run alongside Chris’. Chris lifts him seemingly effortlessly, every muscle seeming to bulge with the strain, and he deposits Phil on the couch, ending the kiss. Chris watches Phil in amusement for a moment, already breathing slightly faster, noticeably aroused. He slips a hand under the waistband of his gym shorts, teasing for a moment, before tugging them down and revealing very snug boxers.

    “Don’t tease.” It comes out a lot more breathlessly than Phil intended, but he needs Chris to have some mercy here.

    “Alright.” The underwear goes and Chris’ dick slaps happily up against his abs, hard and already leaking a little. Chris joins Phil on the couch, close enough to touch, leaning against one side and hooking one arm behind his head, putting his muscles on display again. He also spreads his legs, splaying himself out a little. Phil reflexively puts his hand on his left knee and Chris grins. 

    “Gonna pass me the lube?” He’s already toying with his testes a little, smirking, and that one lock of hair is curling over his forehead again. They have lube hidden more or less everywhere around the apartment. It makes unplanned sex that much more easy. Phil moves like he’s in a trance, never taking his eyes off Chris.

    “Let me,” he says suddenly, already curling his lubed-up fingers around Chris’ dick. Chris moans softly and spreads his legs some more.

    “What happened to me touching myself?”

    “Fuck, I don’t know, I just need to get my hands on you.” Phil swipes his thumb over the head, pressing down a little. Chris gasps and arcs beautifully, hooking his leg around Phil. 

Phil finds a rhythm quickly, just fast enough to keep Chris squirming and moaning, switching between curls of his wrist and presses of his fingers and squeezes, watching sweat trickle down Chris’ temples. Every buck of his hips tenses his abs, every time he tries to find purchase with his hands his biceps bulge, every hitch of breath makes his pecs clench.

    “So fucking beautiful, Christopher.”

Chris whines in response, pressing his hips up again, shifting so the back of his thigh is pressed against Phil’s front for extra touch. Phil falters in his strokes, head falling to Chris’ knee for a moment, because damn, that was touching just the right places.

    “Fuck, Chris, I gotta -” He tugs at his pants, probably getting lube all over them, brushing over the sensitive insides of Chris’ thighs again and again before he’s got his dick out, lubing it up haphazardly before pressing it against Chris’ leg, whimpering low in his throat. He wraps his fingers around Chris’ dick again, resuming stroking it while fucking his hips against Chris’ thigh, the hairs adding texture and every twitch of Chris making his leg muscles twitch as well.

    “Phil, god, right - ah, right there, please, baby, I gotta -” Chris shudders suddenly, eyes clenching shut. Phil’s dick is trapped between his stomach and Chris’ thigh, slick and wet and hot and hard.

    “Please,” Phil gasps out, rolling his hips again and tugging on Chris’ dick, the skin on his thigh creating the best friction possible and Chris is moaning and gasping underneath him.

    “Please, Phil, oh god, please, just lemme -”

    “Yeah, fuck, come for me, Chris, Chris, Chris, please -” Phil is dizzy with the orgasm racking through him, hips snapping against Chris’ thigh almost unconsciously. He bites down just above Chris’ knee as he comes, semen making the slide of his cock that much easier while he wrings out the last bits of orgasm.

 

    “You’re such a fucking asshole,” Chris pants. Phil can’t move from where he’s leaned against the back of the couch, even though Chris’ leg between his side and the upholstery is really uncomfortable. He’s not entirely sure he can feel  _ his _ legs, but he opens his eyes a bit regardless to see what on Earth his lover’s problem is.

Chris hasn’t come. Oh. And he’s just about to shove Phil’s hand off his cock so he can finish himself. 

Phil tightens his fingers.

    “Don’t even think about it,” he growls.

Chris groans in dejection and lets his head fall back against the arm of the couch. His dick jumps under Phil’s hand.

    “I did say I’d fuck you, Christopher. And I intend to make good on that promise.”

    “You’re sixty-one. The likelihood that you’ll be able to get it up in the next hour is almost none. Please, Phil. Please.”

Phil kisses his knee and extricates himself from his lover.

    “If you promise to stay right here, not move and not touch yourself, you get to decide which vibe I’m going to get.”

    “Oh. Oh. The - uh.” Chris licks his lips. “The purple one with the raised stripe around it. Please.”

Phil kisses the inside of his thigh again. “Alright. Don’t move, Chrissy, I’ll be back in a second.”

 

He gets the vibrator, as promised. And the handcuffs that are long enough to wrap around the feet of the couch, just to see Chris strain his arms some more.

**Author's Note:**

> this was so much fun to write, but it was so difficult to decide how they were going to get off :p
> 
> thanks for reading! if you liked it, please leave a comment! it'd make my day <3
> 
> also come say hi on [my tumblr](http://www.nerdqueenenterprise.tumblr.com)!


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